


What I Hate and What I Love

by aeriamamaduck



Series: Dragon Age II [14]
Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Alcohol, Arguing, Blue-Purple Hawke, Drinking to Cope, Implied/Referenced Torture, Implied/Referenced Underage Drinking, M/M, Past Abuse, Slavery, rogue hawke - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-03
Updated: 2017-02-03
Packaged: 2018-09-21 17:57:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9560432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aeriamamaduck/pseuds/aeriamamaduck
Summary: A slip of the tongue causes tension between Garrett and Fenris.





	

It wasn’t Merrill’s fault, truly. Still, she was sorry and had that kicked-kitten look whenever Garrett saw her for the rest of the week. 

It happened on a hot day when Aveline tasked them with ridding the southern tip of the Wounded Coast of raiders, and Garrett decided to bring Fenris, Merrill, and Varric along for the fun.

The fight was easy enough, even if Garrett’s armor was completely covered in blood by the end of it. He had some newer armor lying around the estate anyway. Now the issue was marching home in the sweltering heat, stickier than usual.

He supposed the heat, coupled with Merrill’s use of Blood Magic and sensitivity to the Fade, made Fenris more irritable.

Merrill walked beside Garrett and, out of nowhere, told him, “Varania’s settled in well. I’ve told her she’s not to have a staff until she can–”

_“What?!”_

Garrett and Merrill flinched, sharing a grimace before the man bit his lip and turned to his _very_ angry-looking lover.

And indeed, Fenris was furious. His fists were clenched at his sides and he was glaring at them both with an intensity that made Garrett shrink.

Varric cleared his throat and said, “I suggest you start running, Hawke.”

Running hadn’t been necessary, though they did walk back home in a cloud of anger and tension. Once they were in the city they parted at Garrett’s door, Merrill mouthing, “Sorry!” before following Varric. Fenris didn’t look at him as he shoved the door open.

Fenris waited in the library until Garrett cleaned up and changed into his house clothes before laying into him. “It’s not enough you told me to let her live! Now you’ve helped her find a home in Kirkwall? I have to risk running into that witch in the streets now? Hawke, she tried to sell me out!”

Garrett pinched the bridge of his nose, every word from Fenris hitting its mark. “I know. Maker, I know, and you know I was just as ready to kill her for what she did and what she said to you. But…I couldn’t.” He spread his hands in a gesture of surrender. “What else could I do? Leave her to the Templars?”

“Yes,” Fenris snarled, green eyes burning. “That mage is no family of mine, not if she was willing to hand me back to the one responsible for _this_.” He pointed as his throat, at the collection of markings snaking over his skin. “Let the Templars have her! I care not.”

Garrett shouted back, “You know why I can’t do that! Maker, every time I _have_ done it, it’s like I’ve spat on my father’s ashes and everything he ever taught me!”

“So you’d turn every mage loose now, dangerous or not?”

“I didn’t say that!”

“Who knows what Danarius taught Varania? You’d let yet another Blood Mage wander Kirkwall!”

He scrambled for an answer. “She…She just cowered in a corner while the fight was going on! She’s no Blood Mage, Fenris!” He turned and raked his hand through his hair, sighing in exasperation at Fenris’s stubbornness and his own thoughtlessness. “Shit, I thought…Fenris, I asked you to let her live because she’s all you have left to help you remember your past.”

Fenris’s frown softened for a split second before returning in full force. “I need no favors from that waste of flesh. She is of Tevinter, and no use to me!”

“Tevinter has poisoned her, as it has you. You’re both victims.”

That earned him a harder glare, if that were possible at this point. “She would not have been a victim much longer. Not if Danarius had had his way.”

Garrett clenched his jaw at the thought. “And I would die a hundred times before I let that happen. I would kill every magister that so much as _looked_ at you wrong if it would give you peace. What your sister did was wrong and I told her as much when I spoke to her, but she could tell you everything you wanted to know about your life before the markings! I just…” His shoulders sagged and he sat at his writing desk, staring at the unopened bottle of Anderfels scotch. “…I wanted you to have that choice.”

He heard Fenris growl softly and then silence. He knew how these fights of theirs usually went: Fenris would walk out of the estate and stumble back hours later, good and drunk, finding Garrett in the same condition, and they would apologize in loud slurs before ending up in bed and waking up with punishing hangovers that were worse than the actual argument.

As much as it hurt to let Fenris leave, the last thing Garrett wanted was to make him feel trapped. He reached for the bottle and a glass, pulling the cork off with his teeth and liberally pouring out a good amount.

Fenris was still there, standing somewhat uncertainly. “That’s strong drink,” he said flatly.

Garrett chuckled dryly and tipped his head back to swallow the liquor, the burn good and bracing. “I’ve been knocking this back since I was fifteen.”

Moments passed and suddenly Fenris was sitting next to him, taking the bottle and another glass for himself. “Might as well start now,” he muttered.

Garrett watched him swallow the stuff and had to bite back a laugh at the elf’s grimace. He was angry, damn it, and wanted to stay angry…Yet he was so glad Fenris hadn’t left the house. Rubbing the back of his neck he sighed, “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to know what’s best for you, I just…I don’t want you to ever have regrets. I don’t want you to regret _us_. Maker, I’m an idiot.”

Fenris looked at him, his gaze softening and tension melting from his body. “I could never regret you. I’m the one being foolish.” He looked down at the glass, green eyes bright from the alcohol. “You were thinking of me, as always. I should know by now that you’d never purposefully do anything to hurt me.”

Garrett filled their glasses again, his throat still tingling. “I’m just so used to looking after everyone.”

“I would have you no other way,” the elf said softly, his voice resounding in Garrett’s mind. Fenris sipped slowly, which proved fruitless and did nothing for the bitter taste, and sighed again. “I make no promises about reaching out to…that woman.”

“That’s fine.” He would never push that on him. As always it would be _his_ choice.

They stayed that way for a few minutes, Garrett blinking away the bleariness of the strong drink and swallowing more like the champion he was.

Then he heard Fenris say in a low tone, “At least I’ll avoid a long walk through Lowtown just to get you in bed tonight.”

Garrett chuckled into his glass, head swimming in gentle warm waters. 


End file.
